Zach looked down at the patio and across to the guesthouse. In a lot of ways, Adele had been different from the other girls he’d dated, and he’d really loved that about her. Hell, at the time he’d thought that maybe he’d loved her.

Now, he was older and supposed to be wiser, and he wasn’t even sure he knew what that meant anymore.

Chapter 3

The house was huge. Even by Texas standards. It was made of stucco and stone and had a red tile roof. Adele guessed it was supposed to look like a Tuscan villa of some sort, but it had a slight Romano’s Macaroni Grill look to it, and she got an urge for shrimp scampi. Or maybe she was just hungry from spending all night in the hospital.

She parked her sister’s car under the portico, then moved beneath the vine-covered walk to a set of heavy wood doors with wrought-iron handles. She rang the doorbell and folded her arms against the morning chill. She’d run out of the house in such a hurry the night before, she’d forgotten a jacket.

The moment she’d driven into the gated community, she’d felt a slight unease. It reeked of the kind of money and exclusion that had always made her uncomfortable. Like an interloper. It wasn’t that she herself didn’t feel good enough. She was successful and made a very good living off her writing, but being back in Cedar Creek again reminded her of growing up in the small town. Of growing up just inside the boundary between the haves and have-nots.

As a kid, she’d been bused to schools in the wealthier neighborhoods, and she’d never really fit in. Partly because her family had been middle class, and partly because she’d lived a lot in her own head. She’d made a few friends in middle and high school, but she’d lost track of them after she’d left for UT.

She fit in a lot better with the good friends she’d made in Idaho. She felt like she belonged there more than she ever had in the place where she’d been born and raised. But here she was, back in Texas, standing on the porch of a mansion, out of place in her coffee-stained, thin white sweater that zipped up the front.

She’d been back in town a week. Seven exhausting days of helping her sister that had culminated in rushing Sherilyn to the hospital the night before. At least Adele had been able to wash her face and use a toothbrush she’d bought in the gift shop before she’d left to pick up Kendra.

One side of the heavy doors swung open, and a girl with long blond hair stood just inside. “Are you Kendra’s momma?” she asked, flattening her vowels like a true Texan.

“I’m her aunt.” The girl was very thin, and there was something vaguely familiar about her. Something Adele couldn’t put her finger on. Then again, maybe there was nothing. She was exhausted, and her mind was fuzzy.

“I’m Tiffany.” She swung the door open and smiled, showing a mouthful of braces. “Come on in. We’re just finishing up breakfast.”

Adele stepped inside and onto terra-cotta tiles with a Marcala medallion in the center of the large entry. Her flip-flops slapped her heels as she followed Tiffany down a hall and into the kitchen, where everything was made of marble, granite and stainless steel. Morning sunlight spilled through a large leaded-glass window, throwing odd patterns on the floor and commercial-grade appliances.

Within a splash of white light, Kendra stood with one hip shoved into a counter. Except for the Harris eyes, she looked just like her father, William.

“Where’s Mom?” Kendra asked, and took a bite of a Pop Tart with pink icing.

“I had to take her to the hospital last night.”

Kendra straightened and swallowed. “What’s wrong? Is she still there? Is she okay?”

“She has something call preeclampsia.”

“What’s that?”

Adele herself wasn’t quite sure. The doctors had talked a lot about high levels of protein and dangerously high blood pressure, but Adele had not really understood the how and why of it. Only that it was very serious. She explained the best she could. “It’s something that happens in the placenta that causes high blood pressure.” Maybe. “She’s okay, but the doctors say she has to stay in the hospital for a while.” There was a good chance Sherilyn would have to spend the four remaining months of her pregnancy in the hospital, which meant Adele was going to be stuck in Texas for longer than she’d planned. A lot longer.

“Is the baby okay?”

“He’s fine.” For now. “Go get your stuff, and I’ll take you to see her.”

Kendra nodded, and her fine dark hair fell across her cheek. She walked from the kitchen, her Pop Tart forgotten in her hand. Adele wished she knew her niece better and knew what to say, but she didn’t, and she felt a little guilty about that. Adele hadn’t seen Kendra since her niece’s seventh birthday, and she’d grown up a lot in six years. Her body was maturing, and she’d started to wear a little bit of makeup to school this year. Not a lot, but it wouldn’t be long until she was smack-dab in the middle of her teenage years.

“Are you from Fort Worth?” Tiffany asked.

Adele turned her gaze to the young girl in front of her. “No. I’m from Idaho.”

Tiffany nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been to Des Moines.”

That was Iowa, but Adele didn’t bother to correct Tiffany. A lot of adults thought Idaho was in the Midwest, too. “Did you girls have a good time last night?” she asked in an effort to hold up her side of the conversation. She hadn’t been around teens since she’d been one herself and didn’t really know what to say to someone twenty-two years younger. What did teenage girls do these days?

“Kendra’s gonna try out for the dance team, and I’m helpin’ her with the routines. Two girls got cut on account of gettin’ caught at a beer party doin’ keg stands.”

Apparently teens were doing keg stands. Adele hadn’t begun her keg-standing career until college.

“Kendra danced at her old school, but you probably know that.”

Actually, she didn’t. Adele listened as Tiffany rambled on about her dance team and their chances of making it to nationals this year. And the more she talked, the more Adele felt there was something familiar about the girl. But that something wasn’t quite clear in Adele’s tired brain.

“I can’t find my dance shoes,” Kendra said as she walked toward them, her sweatshirt in one hand and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Her eyes were red and her cheeks smeared with tears as if she’d just wiped a palm across her face.

Tiffany turned on her heels and walked from the kitchen. “You probably left them in the living room.”

Adele put her arm around her niece’s shoulders, and they followed Tiffany. “Your mom and the baby are going to be just fine. When I left, she was eating breakfast, and the baby was kicking.” Not that she’d felt any kicking herself.

“Really?”

“Really. She’s going to need lots of rest, but I’ll be around to help out.” They moved into the dark living room, and Adele gave her niece’s shoulder a squeeze before she dropped her arm to her side. “Try not to worry.”

“I always wanted a little brother,” Tiffany said as she flipped a switch. Delicate wrought-iron chandeliers lit up a large room with the furnishings pushed back against the walls. The large rugs had been rolled up leaving the middle bare. “But my momma and daddy only had me,” she added.

“I always thought it would be nice to have an older brother.” Adele moved farther into the room and glanced about for Kendra’s shoes. At the far end, a fireplace made of gold-and-brown marble dominated one wall. Columns and leaves were carved into the smooth stone, and like the rest of the house, it bordered on over the top. “A little brother would have been really ni-” She stopped in midsentence, her mouth fell open and the air whooshed from her lungs. Above the mantel, caressed by the warm glow of special lighting, Devon Hamilton stared down at her from a life-sized portrait. Her green eyes cold and her lips pressed into that I’m-better-than-you smile Adele recognized.

Tiffany moved beside her and looked up. “That’s my momma.”

Adele moved her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Shock hit her stomach, while hot little pinpricks spread up her chest to her face. She took one step back, then another.

“She died a few years ago.”

Adele stopped. Shock number two. Devon is dead? “I’m sorry,” she whispered past the clog in her throat.

“Wasn’t she beautiful? Like an angel.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she managed.

“It’s just me and Daddy now.”

Daddy. Tiffany and Kendra went to school together, which meant Tiffany was also thirteen. Which also meant…holy crap. In her shock over Devon, she’d forgotten all about Daddy. “Kendra, we’ve got to go. Now!”

Both girls looked at her, and Kendra said, “I need my shoes.”

“Get them another time.” Adele headed toward the door.

“Maybe I left them downstairs.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” Adele said over her shoulder as she moved through the entry and out the door. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered to herself. Her fingers felt cold, and she shook her hands. She twisted an ankle on the uneven cobblestones in the walkway, but she didn’t let a little thing like pain shooting up her shin slow her down. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this.” She hooked a right beneath the portico and moved toward Sherilyn’s Celica. At one time or another, every woman alive fantasized about running into an ex and making him sorry he’d dumped her. Adele had had those fantasies. She’d had them a time or two about Zach Zemaitis, but she’d always pictured herself sizzling hot, not looking like crap with coffee down her sweater.

She pulled a set of keys from the pocket of her jeans. God, just get me out of here. She looked up, and the keys fell from her numb fingers at the sight of shock number three jogging up the driveway toward her. The sunlight caught in Zach Zemaitis’s hair like a halo and a pair of Oakley Thump Pros rested on the bridge of his nose. Her heart pounded in her ears as the soles of his running shoes pounded the uneven cobblestones with ease.